[Anita]. chapter 3

                          

Anita.

Chapter 3

 

        The sun was setting over the changing wood. I sat on the swing in the Garden and watched as the sun's golden rays transformed the colors of the autumn leaves. Yellow became gold, orange became flame, red became blood: green became emerald. As a chilly breeze whipped around me, I shivered. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself and tucked my legs beneath me. The novel that I brought with me laid on the bench beside me, finished. I knew that soon, the maids would come looking for me. I scanned the edge of the wood again, anxious.

        He still hadn't come.

        I knew better than to be disappointed, of that I was certain. After all, I imagined that an Alpha werewolf was like a king in most ways, and the eldest child, especially being a man, could have anything pressed on him at any moment. I don't think I could blame Blake even if I really wanted to.

        I reached for my novel and flipped through the pages until I found a good part to read over. The hero had finally been reunited with his true love.

        “Princess?”

        I started, my hand flying to my chest, looking around. The other young man that had accompanied Blake last night-Bear-stood by the edge of the wood. He wasn't wearing much, a mere t-shirt and denim pants, but he didn't look cold in the least.

        “Forgive me for startling you,” he smiled. He stepped closer and sat on the bench beside me. “Blake's sick, and so I came in his stead.”

        “Sick?” I said quietly, “what happened?”

        Bear smile a little, and took a deep breath. “He got a real nasty cut on his hand and Carter, he's the North Village doctor, he told Blake he couldn't come here.”

        “Oh,” I could hear the sadness in his voice. “He'll be alright though?”

        “Of course!” Bear smiled, “he's one of the toughest guys I know.”

        “Are your medicines the same as ours?” I asked after a moment, “do your...people, do they prescription drugs like we use?”

        “Sometimes,” Bear shrugged. He got to his feet then, and started for the wood. I feared that he would leave then, but he bent down and seemed to scrutinize the foliage. I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself and stood beside him, watching with curious eyes.

        “See this?” Bear whispered after a moment. He was cupping the leaf of a small tree in his hand. I nodded. “This is an Island plant, and Arbor Lamiae. Vampire Tree. See how the veins of the leaves are tinted purple?”

        I nodded, reaching out to touch the white leaves, wondering why I had never come across this plant before. Now that I knew it was here, the pine white of the leaves screamed out against the bronze of the dead oak and fir leaves on the ground.

        “This is a special tree,” Bear smiled. He sat down in the dirt and plucked a leaf off of the tree, handing it to me. “All the energy that it gains is converted to a purple-tinted liquid that acts as a paralyzer.”

        “Really?” I whispered. Bear smiled and suddenly flicked a pocketknife out of his pocket. I watched as he sliced into the trunk of the tree, so small that I could wrap my hands around it. A think purple liquid oozed from the slice, and Bear touched his fingertips to it. There was a slight smile on his lips.

        “Here,” he murmured.

        I touched my fingertips to his and felt the strangest buzzing sensation.

        “That's so odd,” I whispered. Bear nodded.

        “We use it for numbing, for things like stitches or wounds.”

        I laughed as a tingly sensation began at my fingertips. I pulled my hand away from his and looked at the stuff on my fingertips in the setting sun.

        “Most of our medicines are modern,” he shrugged, “but many are natural, too.”

        “And this is what your doctor will use on Blake's cut?” I asked him. I stood, shaking out the skirt of my dress, and snatched up the leaf.

        “Most likely,” he smiled.

        There was the faint cry of my name from a maid. I sighed.

        “You've got to go?” Bear murmured, standing. I nodded. “I'll come back tomorrow and tell you more, if you'd like.”

        “i would like that,” I confessed, “will Blake be better by then?”

        “If he is, I'll bring him along.”

        “Thank you.”

        Bear smiled and shifted nervously. He bowed quickly and slipped back into the wood.

        I took the leaf with me back into the palace. I walked slowly through the halls. Making my way up to my chamber. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the grand mirror on the stairs and stopped for a moment to look.

        The chilling air had nipped at my nose, turning it a faint red, and it had paled the rest of my face. My eyes were big and wide, and my hair looked soft. I liked this reflection, I decided. I walked up the rest of the stairs, and voices met my ears.

        Odd, I thought inwardly, there are people in my chamber.

        When I ascended the stairs, I could hear my father's voice, that alto murmur that demanded respect. When I pushed open my chamber door, my father was standing in the middle of my room. People were moving all about, putting things in boxes. I could feel my face get hot as the maids routed through my drawers, taking out all me undergarments. My father caught my eye and beckoned to me. I approached him obediently. A figure leaning against my chamber wall caught my entire attention suddenly, his face looking just like his son's.

        “Forgive me, Anita,” Peter sighed. He approached my father and I slowly. When he was merely feet away, I caught the lovely smell of nature radiating from him.

        “What's going on?” I asked quietly, though I knew already. I felt my face fall and struggled to compose myself. “Why?” I whispered and immediately wished I hadn't.

        “Do not question your elders!” my father barked. I cringed against his anger. His face softened, “you will accompany the Alpha and accept his hospitality. None will hear a word of protest, am I understood?”

        “Yes,” I whispered quickly. I took a wary step backwards.

        Peter took a step towards me and set a heavy hand, warm hand on my shoulder. I could feel the wonder on my face as a sudden reality dawned on me. If Peter sincerely desired to, he could crush my shoulder quite simply; as I would crush a clump of dirt in the gardens. I think Peter realized it as well, because I caught a slightly panicked look on his face before he eased his pressure a little.

        “You needn't worry, Anita,” he murmured to me. He knelt down and took my hand, looking up into my eyes. I could feel his strong, silent security ring in his voice. It was another phenomenon that I was unaccustomed to. “You'll be fine on Island, you have my word.”

        I nodded, and Peter smiled genuinely. I knew he could see the wild questions in my eyes. He patted my hand and stood to face my father.

        “If it will not offend you, we'll take our leave now. I'm worried about my son, he's become ill.”

        An odd look crossed my father's face, then, and he nodded.

        “Very well,” he murmured. His manner was quick and icy, I watched the floor with anxious eyes.

        “Come along, Anita,” Peter whispered. I allowed him to lead me out of my chamber, and walked beside him down the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him.

        He walked surely, but humbly. His head held high, his back straight, but as we neared the Cloak room, one of the younger maids crossed our path. Unlike most, who would bustle past, Peter paused and smiled at the girl, allowing her to pass. The child looked as shocked as I felt, Peter set a gentle hand on my shoulder and lead me outside.

        My mother was there, in her hands she held a small wooden box. It looked strikingly plain against her fancy dress. Her eyes were wide, almost frightened. I walked forward to her slowly. She bit her bottom lip and held out the box. As I took it, I saw her cast a worried glance back at the thick, high castle walls.

        “I will miss you, darling,” she sniffled. Peter took her box from my hands and stepped away. My mother cupped my cheek in her hand and whimpered. I smiled, to let her know that I would be okay. Quite suddenly, she kissed my forehead and let me go.

        “Go on,” she whispered, “and send me some pictures, please. I can't bear to lose you completely.”

        “I promise, mummy,” I whispered. I knew she could see the millions of questions that were swirling around in my mind, because she took me in her arms and kissed my head.

        “They'll take care of you, darling,” she whispered. “I know they will.”

        “Anita,” Peter's voice was apologetic, to interrupt, but when I pulled away from my mother, Peter's eyes were anxious for his ill son. With one look at my mother, I allowed Peter to lead me away.

        “It will fade in time,” he murmured to me. Though his voice was gentle, his eyes were hard. We walked past the barn, to the end of the wood. There were two horses tied up there. They were strong looking beasts, and I was intimidated by them. Peter helped me onto the saddle, and for a while we rode in silence. I watched the huge stallions feet clomp as he carried me along.

        We rode past the woods that I had never known existed, on a path that I had never seen before. It was well worn, however, as though many people had used it. In the quiet of the still wood, I allowed my mind to wander.

        What would be waiting for me on Island, with all those werewolves? It was a frightening thought. Since the wolves had publicly declared their existence thirty years ago, a total of five wars had been fought. I knew that I was a token of peace, and the idea repulsed me.

        But I remembered the lovely swirls of blue and green in Blake's eyes, the way that he had smiled at me. I recalled his gentle touch and the patient way he'd danced. Maybe it was possible for him to care for me.

        I thought of my mother and her face, torn by sadness when she'd embraced me. I promised myself that I'd return to her someday; surely that would be okay, right?

        I recalled Christoph's talk of Blake being my perfect mystery. He had smiled, but his eyes were serious. Somehow, I achingly missed his sure presence. I knew that in time, his power would distort who he was. I had already seen it in my father. The thought of losing Christoph, too-

        “Anita,” Peter's voice pulled me from my trance, and he was beside me with a patient smile. A large stranger was leading Peter's horse away, into a huge, towering wooden barn. The sound of lapping ocean waves was somewhere near. “Come along,” he cooed to me. He held out a large, tanned hand. “We're to walk from here.” His hands suddenly lifted me off of the large horse and set my feet on the ground. The tall stranger returned to take the beast's reins and lead it away.

        “Walk,” I echoed. I looked around, rocking back and forth on my heels. I was suddenly terribly excited.

        There was another path we walked down in utter silence, the only sounds were our feet hitting the earth and the wind rustling the leaves. Not ten minutes later, we came up to a vast log cabin. It had a beautiful garden in the front and a stable, small compared to the one our horses had been lead into earlier.

        “Home,” Peter murmured. That one insignificant word suddenly held so much meaning. I marveled at how welcoming and lovely it seemed. Peter opened the door and made a small sweeping gesture. “After you,” he smiled.

        “Thank you,” I said softly, stepping inside the door frame. The inside was even more glorious and spacious then I had imagined.

        “The living room,” Peter said pointing to the room to the left of us. He set his large warm hand on my shoulder and guided me through the long hallway ahead of us. At the end of this hall was the kitchen and to the left was his bedroom he told me. He lead me to the right and around a corner to a winding metal staircase. Atop the stairs was another hallway. The hall had three doors; one was a bathroom and the other two were bedrooms. I felt awkward standing there because there didn't seem to be a guest bedroom anywhere. The two bedrooms had the names 'Blake' and 'Chloe' painted on them.

        “Where will I be staying?” I asked quietly.

        “You will be staying with Chloe, in her room,” Peter stated. Just then, Chloe's door opened and she came out of her room. Her face was red with anger and her mouth was set in a firm line. I knew then that I wouldn't be very welcome. She was glaring right at me for a moment or two before turning on her heel and entering Blake's room, shutting the door behind her.

        Blake.

        His name shot shivers down my spine and my heart began to race. Bear has said he was ill, I wondered if he was doing any better. “I'll go get your belongings, go ahead and see your new living quarters,” Peter said, starting down the hall.

        Cautiously, I opened the door with Chloe's name painted on it. The walls were wood colored, no colorful paint decorated them. A plush white carpet covered the floors, and a lone dresser sat in the corner next to one of the beds. The other bed was on the opposite side of the room and had a door near it.

        I slipped off my shoes, leaving them by the door. The carpet was soft beneath my bare feet. I walked over to the door by the bed and opened it, it made a creaking noise as I did so. Closet, half was full of clothes, the other half remained empty. I shut the door quickly this time, hoping it would prevent much noise.

        When I turned back around to survey the room, an adorable little blond girl with chocolate colored eyes was staring up at me. She was cradling the small wooden box my mother had given me and an 8 ball. She set the 8 ball on the floor and held up the wooden box to me. I took it from her tiny hands and she immediately snatched up her 8 ball off the floor.

        “Haasmydaddy a divea noo!” she declared proudly. I smiled down at her.

        “Thank you,” I said, “pleasure to meet you.” She was so cute standing there, as the sunlight tossed golden flecks into her blond hair.

        “Hm, say my mumma!” she squeaked suddenly and scurried away. Chloe came in when the little girl had left, she had in her hands a string and a large folded sheet.

        “This,” she said, pointing to the area across from where I stood, “is my half of the room.” She tied the string to the hinge on the door and to a tack above one of the two windows in the room. She then shook out the large sheet and draped it over the string.

        I didn't bother to argue with her, seeing how it really was her room to begin with.

        Again, the little girl appeared, but this time, she only held the 8 ball and continued to stare at it once she entered the room.

        “Norah, get dad, please,” Chloe said sweetly to the girl.

        “Mm'say” the little girl replied. She ran off, down the hall. I could hear her tiny feet plodding down the stairs. “Dadda, dadda! Ko-ey wansoo,” she yelled.

        “Okay, thank you Norah,” Peter's muffled voice replied. His foot steps were heavier sounding then little Norah's and became much louder as he came closer to the room. “Yes, Chloe?” Peter said, setting my bags on the floor by my bed.

        “When is dinner?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

        “In half an hour,” he answered, he turned to me, “are you settling in nicely?”

        “Yes,” I lied. I had always been taught to be respectful and truthful, yet here I was lying to someone who had taken me in.

        “Good, good.” He left and I began to unpack under the glare of Chloe. I hung all my dresses in the closet on my designated side.

        “Those can go in the bottom two drawers,” she said pointing to the leftover things in my bag. I did as she said and took the neatly folded pajamas and undergarments placing them into the two bottom drawers.

        Finished, I thought, laying down on my new bed. The ceiling was decorated with lovely stars. Intricate patterns of the solar system were painted above me. I gazed upon them for some time until a soft woman's voice called out my name. Thrice the sing song voice called to me, “yes?” I answered. What was her name?

        “It's time for dinner,” she called. Cathleen.

        “Coming.” I stood, smoothing the wrinkles out of my dress. Back down the winding staircase and around the corner, everyone was settled at the table...everyone except Blake. Some part of me was wishing to see him here and I felt a slight stab at my heart for him. There was only one seat open and I knew it was his, so I sat. An uncomfortable wave washed over me, encompassing me with nerves. Some of my nerves vanished as conversation soon filled the room. The was talk of official Alpha work, though most of the chatter was centered around a deposit of silver.

        “Bear came by while you were out fetching Anita,” Cathleen told Peter.

        “What did he need?” Peter asked.

        “He said Carter and some of the others found the deposit this morning,” she stated. “Though we'll most likely need the humans to get it out.”

        “Yes, of course,” Peter said, looking thoughtfully at his food. “I'm sure that Nathaniel will want to help,” he gave a small laugh.

        “Num, num, mummy,” Norah giggled.

        “I agree with Norah,” Peter smiled at Cathleen, “very delicious dinner.” He leaned over and kissed Cathleen. Affection. Something I rarely saw among my own parents, it was so common with the people on Island.

        “Maybe when Carter can get a sample of the stuff, he can find a cure for Blake,” Chloe said brightly. The sound of Blake's name immediately caught my attention.

        “So Blake is sick because of silver?” I asked cautiously.

        “Yes,” Cathleen answered with sad eyes.

        “What exactly happened to make him so sick?” I ventured. Everyone avoided my eyes and kept quiet for a long minute.

        “Well,” Peter sighed, “we wolves are highly allergic to silver, it's basically deadly to us.” My breath caught. “Blake was on his way to see you when Norah dropped her 8-ball. So Blake went to get it from a hole and cut his hand on a fragment of silver.” My mouth was hanging open and I was completely speechless.

        “Why don't you already have an antidote?”

        “Because, when we moved here, the humans cleared Island of all the silver for us. No one was getting sick, so there was no need for the medicine.”

        “Oh, but-”

        “Technically,” Peter cut me off, “we need the silver to get sick and we need it to cure us.”

        “I think I'm going to go to bed now.” I left the table and hurried up to my room before they could protest.